


Heat

by INMH



Series: Merry Month of Masturbation Fills (2018) [6]
Category: The Order: 1886
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Sexual Content, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: This was one of the many reasons why Alastair considered Lycanthropy a curse.





	Heat

_This is a curse._  
  
Alastair grit his teeth and dug his  fingers into the pillow, willing himself not to grind down into the bed.  
  
_I will not give into this,_ he thought, breathing steadily through his nose. **_Bugger_** _biology. I have self-control._  
  
_Nobody_ could know about it. If anyone, even someone too thick to know what it meant, found out that Alastair was in a bloody _heat_ , word would inevitably get out and someone would recognize the symptoms for what they were. There was no earthly reason why he should be experiencing symptoms like this- the fever alone was probably much higher than what was normal for a human body to endure- and suspicions would definitely be peaked when they realized the Blackwater wasn’t having an effect.  
  
If anyone asked, he just had a headache. That was all.  
  
Except that it was in his cock, not his head; and in lieu of pain, there was a pleasure so intense that he felt he might _die_ if he didn’t-  
  
_You will **not** die._  
  
_This is a trick._  
  
_Your body wants you to believe you’re dying so that you’ll reproduce._  
  
_It’s overwhelming you so that you’ll give in._  
  
_You have self-control._  
  
**_You are better than this._**  
  
And Alastair _was_ better than it… For about seven hours or so.  
  
But by God, there was only so long a man could resist, and this particular spell of the heat was a bit more intense than usual.  
  
_Maybe just once._  
  
(Self-control, self-control, he had _self-control,_ damn it)  
  
_Maybe it would let the pressure off a bit._  
  
(It won’t, it never does, it’ll probably make it worse)  
  
_Maybe it would feel better._  
  
“The hell with it!” Alastair hissed, and threw the blanket back so he could shove his hand down his sleeping pants. His hand was dry, and it ought to have been uncomfortable past the point of gaining any pleasure, but the thing about being in _heat_ was that his cock didn’t terribly care how comfortable things were so long as it was receiving stimulation of some sort. It took less than a minute to bring himself off, and the climax was more painful than relieving.  
  
And soon enough, of course, he was hard again.  
  
“ _Damn it!_ ” He snarled, slamming his fist against the mattress.

Every time. Every time he gave in, it ended with it just getting worse. There were so many drawbacks to being a Lycan, too many to _count_ if he was being honest, but this was easily one of the most embarrassing and aggravating. If it wouldn’t require a _hell_ of an explanation to his father (and several doctors, more likely than not) he’d just castrate himself and be done with it. And unfortunately, he still had _use_ for those body-parts on some occasions and wasn’t quite ready to part with them just yet.  
  
Yet.  
  
“I’m going to be a wreck tomorrow,” Alastair whispered, eyes rolling shut as he reached for the oil he kept tucked away in his side-table for just such occasions. He was going to be exhausted tomorrow morning, utterly absent mentally from his day and duties as Knight Commander. It would be a long day, Alastair realized with a sigh as he took himself in hand again.  
  
 _Still, I suppose I’ve had worse nights._  
  
-End


End file.
